


A Case of You

by Phoebsfan



Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-20
Updated: 2002-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24897076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoebsfan/pseuds/Phoebsfan
Summary: It's not jealousy.
Relationships: Sydney Bristow/Michael Vaughn
Kudos: 2





	A Case of You

  
  
  
A CASE OF YOU  
  
 _  
Just before our love got lost you said  
"I am as constant as a northern star"  
And I said, "Constant in the darkness  
Where's that at?  
If you want me I'll be in the bar"  
  
On the back of a cartoon coaster  
In the blue TV screen light  
I drew a map of Canada  
Oh Canada  
And your face sketched on it twice  
  
Oh you are in my blood like holy wine  
Oh and you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet  
Oh I could drink a case of you  
I could drink a case of you darling  
And I would still be on my feet  
Oh I'd still be on my feet  
  
Oh I am a lonely painter  
I live in a box of paints  
I'm frightened by the devil  
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid  
I remember that time that you told me, you said  
"Love is touching souls"  
Surely you touched mine  
"Cause part of you pours out of me  
In these lines from time to time  
  
Oh you are in my blood like holy wine  
And you taste so bitter but you taste so sweet  
Oh I could drink a case of you  
I could drink a case of you darling  
Still I'd be on my feet  
And still be on my feet  
  
I met a woman  
She had a mouth like yours  
She knew your life  
She knew your devils and your deeds  
And she said  
"Go to him, stay with him if you can  
Oh but be prepared to bleed"  
Oh but you are in my blood you're my holy wine  
Oh and you taste so bitter, bitter and so sweet  
Oh I could drink a case of you darling  
Still I'd be on my feet  
I'd still be on my feet-------------------_

_A Case of You- Joni Mitchell_

It's not jealousy.

I gulp another glass down.

'Classy Syd. Real classy. Sitting here and guzzling merlot like there's no tomorrow. Yeah, real classy.' The voice in my head taunts. I tried drowning it but it just won't die. First it was going on about blondes, short, petite, blue eyed doves. Now it wanted to mock my method of murder.

After all the shit I've waded through in the past five weeks alone I should to be able to fully enjoy a pity party. Should being the keyword. Should to be able to sit in this tub full of bubbles and listen to the classics, feeling very classy. What a joke. I feel anything but classy.

The water is cold, the bubbles are merely suds, and I pruned up twenty minutes ago.

And still she is on my mind.

She's whispering in his ear, telling him how she could get drunk in his scent. How she could live off his words alone. She probably sleeps in his shirts. They watch the news together, because she insists on it, he knows what's going on, finds some of the stories funny even. She doesn't ever last through the broadcast, she falls asleep on his shoulder.

I hate feeling like this.

It's not like he's deserted me. He's still there. Always will be.

It's just that right now his words mean nothing. Not when she gets to be the last thing he sees at night. Not when she gets to wake up next to him. Which doesn't bother me. So what if they live together. So what if they sleep together.

So what if he wants her to have his kids. It doesn't matter, I reason as I lather my legs.

Grabbing my razor I start at my ankle and move up to my knee, letting my mind wander.

They shower together. I wonder if he's the kind of guy who would offer to wash your hair, your back...

Grabbing my glass I drain it again, quickly, trying to banish the inappropriate thoughts entering my mind.

Shit. What is wrong with me? I'm acting like a horny teenager.

Still thoughts of his lean, hard body... arms wrapped around my smaller, toned flesh...water running over us...

The razor slips.

Great...just great. Of course it couldn't be a small cut either. It would have to be one of those annoying cuts that never stop bleeding.

It matches my beverage of choice. The blood running from the cut just below my knee...

It's as deep as that... he's as deep as that...in my blood. My veins are choking on him as he rushes through me...filling me...and god... Sometimes I feel I can't live without his touch...

Like now...as the image of him sucking the blood off of my leg, kissing his way up my thigh...

Forget the glass...I grab the bottle and lock my lips around it.

God I hate the name Alice.

And I wish she'd just fall through some looking glass and get out of the way so I could...

What... So I could what?

Stand there and look at him... Not feel so bad about wanting him...

Right.

If life were really as simple as my mother made it sound. Vaughn told me of their conversation. I think he did anyway. I'm not so sure. He said it had something to do with taking opportunities before they pass.

Alice is one damn lucky woman.

I step out of the tub and let the water drip from my skin, the air stick to me as it dries the water. Chilling me. Taking the hunger and heat out of me Or at least lessening it to that bearable level.

It's been too long.

Too long when I want to cut myself on him and let him pour out of my veins. Let him wrap himself around me and heal me. Too long when I know I could drink him in...all of him and let our bodies become one entity. Our souls finally meld together as I run as deep in his blood as he does in mine.

I pull a towel around me, rubbing my hand across my stomach... my skin is so alive...so sensitive...It's not a far jump to think of Vaughn...Michael...doing the same.

It's a sickness. It must be. This desire to have all of him, all the time. The ache that settle in the pit of my stomach... the one with his name attached to it.

The tile is cool under my feet. I feel so hot I'm surprised the water that drips down my back from my hair isn't sizzling on my skin.

I'm slightly intoxicated.

Ok so I'm lying...I'm drunk. And I thought it would alleviate the desire to run to his place in only a coat and throw myself at him.

Wrong again.

Damn Alice is lucky. I bet she never has this problem.

She's wrong for him. He needs someone who will challenge him. She doesn't seem the type. He'll get bored with her.

I fling myself on the bed, not caring that the towel has come undone and I'm partially exposed.

It's because I'm drunk...I reason as I pick up the phone and dial his number.

"Do you make deliveries?" I choke out. Not quite believing that I've called him up with the intention of asking him if he wants to sleep with me. What kind of idiot am I? No more merlot for me. EVER.

"I'm sorry but I think you have the wrong number." Of course it's Alice. God damn fucking bitch. I should be grateful he didn't answer. But her voice just makes me more frustrated.

I hang up.

Stare at the ceiling.

My cell's sharp trill fills the air and I grab it without thinking. Answer without thinking.

"What!" I demand harshly, wishing I could do horrid things to a certain blonde.

"You're in my blood..." and then a dial tone.

I can't help but smile... It's good to know I'm not the only one suffering here.  
  



End file.
